Fumbling Dreams
by alanye
Summary: .....Do you want me? Are you allowed to want me?..... When dreams are more welcoming than reality, how far must Harry go to make them come true? HD slash
1. Changes

I don't own Harry Potter or anything, but this story is one of the few things I do own.

  


Okay when I started writing this, I didn't even know who I was writing about. I didn't know what character, or even what book or movie etc. As it developed I decided, and I think this story will turn out to be rather appealing. Please read it, I don't know if I'll continue or not, and your input would really help me continue, if you like it of course. 

  


And this does contain OotP spoilers, so you've been warned. It also contains slash, but as of now I don't know what degree of slash it will be. Nothing over PG-13. And if you don't like slash, et cetera leave now, you know the drill. If you do, pull up a chair and enjoy. And don't forget to review, I basically live off those. And don't forget to read my other story, Past the Horizon, which is a Pirates of the Carribean fic. I put hours of work into it so far so please read it. 

  


Well on with the story.

  
  


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Fumbling Dreams

by alanye

  


Do you want me? Are you allowed to want me? I look over at you and try to see what's going on inside your head, behind the brilliant eyes that make my legs melt whenever they look at me. A look of thoughtful confusion washes over the perfect features of your face. Each one is the perfect specimen. Until I met you I never knew that God's angels walked freely on this earth. 

  


I come to the library every day pretending to work, just to catch sight of you. Every day you are there too, face buried in a book, intently reading and taking notes. These few hours in the library keep me from falling apart. Without this time, without you, what would be the point of going through each day, not having proof that beauty exists in this dark world? 

  


Never have you noticed me, acknowledged my presence during these times. I know you know I'm there, and deep down inside I hope that you ignore me for the same reason that I ignore you. I'm afraid, afraid that you'll know the truth, afraid of what you would say if you knew. So many times while admiring every feature, every wrinkle, every inch of you I hope that deep down you do the same for me. I often drift away, into fantasy worlds that contain only us, and we are happy, for there is no evil and no pain. Only love, our love that shapes the world and our lives and everything. And every day you say you love me. Every day. 

  


Today will be no different, I think as I leave my friends to "work on my Potions essay." I rush back to the dorms to get my things, just in case either of them come to check on me. Why would they do that anyway? Maybe I'm just paranoid. 

  


I open the door to the library and slowly walk to the familiar table, the one with the perfect view of your favorite spot under the window. It is a cool winter morning and it must have snowed outside for there is a fresh untouched coating of snow on the ground that reflects the sun's light and makes the world feel like it's glowing. The same light filters through the window, illuminating the very seat that you so love to sit in.

  


I sometimes think that you sit there simply to taunt me. On a bright sunny day like today, the sun hits your hair and causes it to give off a spectacular white glow making you look more angelic than ever. But the same goes for a dark, desolate, cloudy day, where the rain hits the glass of the window and breaks into a million little droplets which form grey pools on the damp ground. This only accents your deep grey-blue eyes and causes them to sparkle with a light akin to the stars in heaven, lifting the depressing blanket of the storm.

  


I keep my head down as I enter, just in case you avert your attention to me. If my eyes met yours I don't know what I would do. I might have to simply run over, grab your hand, and tell you everything. This would ruin me, my existence, so I have to make sure this doesn't ever happen. I investigate the tiles that make up the library floor. They are worn down from extensive use and occasionally a corner is chipped away leaving a hole in its place. I make it to my seat without any disasters. I open my books and take out my quill. I hold it in my hand. If I was looking at myself through different eyes I would almost believe I was doing work. 

  


For an hour or two I sit, writing about three sentences of my report. As I examine you, I notice something I didn't before. The little finger on your left hand seems to have developed a twitch, and it does so occasionally which causes the pain in your eyes to increase, and you look disparagingly at it, as if you was unable to believe such a monstrosity was part of your body, part of yourself. It angers me to see this look in your eyes, for I know that no matter what you look like you will still be perfect in every way. Nothing would ever change that. 

  


I look at my watch. It reads six twenty-four. I said that I would be back by six thirty, so my time here is over. This saddens me every day, for I am always the one to leave first. Never do you beat me out of here. But never do you miss dinner, which starts at six forty-five. Maybe you wait for me to leave. Maybe you can't bear to miss a second with me, maybe you need to wait for me to leave because you wouldn't be able to handle meeting my eyes, for the same reason I can't meet yours. Or maybe you're just absorbed in your book. 

  


I close my book, the sound breaking the pseudo-silence that I create by erasing the sounds of all other students and teachers from my mind, and only letting my ears hear what they want to hear: every sound that you make, every cough, every page turn. I gather the rest of my things and put them away. I slowly stand and push my chair back into its rightful place at the table. I let my eyes wander to you for one last look which will hopefully tide me over until the next chance I get to come back here.

  


Usually when I look back your eyes are dutifully scanning the pages of that book, which I envy for the attention that it gets from you. But this time, it's different. Everything is different this time. Your book is closed on the table, and your clear eyes are staring out over the table, past the chairs, and directly at me. I find myself facing the one thing I have always feared, but also secretly hoped for. And having your energy and thought focused on me is something that I will never forget. It is as if the whole world dissolved and we were transported into that simple world that I created for us. 

  


But it was over almost before it began, by you nodding, as if to acknowledge my presence, and to tell me to leave, both at the same time. I do what your eyes tell me and slowly lower my head, turn around, and open the great door of the library. From there I cautiously close the door behind me, careful to make as little a sound as possible. I remove my hand from the door and let out a breath that I seem to have been holding since your gaze rested upon me. 

  


From there I turn around and sprint down the hallway back to my room.

  


*****

  


Later that night after dinner I casually walk back to the common room with my two best friends at my side. Hermione gives me an inquisitive glance and I know that she suspects something. I admit that I acted rather quiet during dinner, only adding to conversations with an occasional nod of my head or a quick agreement with whatever was being said.

  


We continue to walk with the uncomfortable air of silence hovering over our heads. We reach the portrait hole, and only the whisper of the password breaks the silence. Once inside, I plop down onto the couch and close my eyes, ready to ponder the events of earlier today in silence that cannot be gained in the presence of the whole school. What could that mean, I wonder. Why did you choose to look at me? Why today of all days? Is it the first and last time? And you nodded, didn't you. Is nodding a form of acceptance? Were you accepting my presence or merely acknowledging that I was there? Do you know? Do you feel the same?

  


I was going to continue with these thoughts, but Hermione, always the curious one, breaks the silence and forces me to come back down to earth, back into the common room which is decorated with red and gold, lit with a soft warm fire that crackles and makes anyone in the room feel accepted. 

  


"How's your Potions essay coming? You seem to be putting a lot of effort into it."

  


"It's fine."

  


"Can I read it? It's great to know that you finally are becoming interested in your schoolwork, I mean it's all that really matters here. I am very pleased to see-"

  


"Not now, it's not finished yet. Maybe later."

  


"Okay, if you're sure. Maybe I could help you finish it faster, see what your hard work has lead to so far."

  


"I said no. Not now. Leave me alone, I'm trying to think."

  


"Man, Harry, what's with you today? I mean you've hardly said two words to us all day. And look, you hurt Hermione's feelings! That's not like you, Harry." 

  


I look over and see Hermione's downcast eyes staring at the floor. I hurt her I know, but she'll get over it. 

  


"Lay off," is all I manage to say before turning over and facing the back of the couch, and at the same time burying my face in a pillow. 

  


"Well if that's what you want," Ron says with more force than necessary. I roll my eyes in the couch. I hear the quiet footsteps that must be the two of them retreating to the other couch on the far side of the room. I hear hushed whispers and I know that they're talking about me. I can always tell. I can't take it. This isn't what friends are for. Why are they overreacting? On the one day that I have hope that my dreams could come true, they turn against me. 

  


I stand up holding the pillow and toss it forcefully back onto the couch. My angry eyes scan the room and land on Ron and Hermione. 

  


"I'm tired, I'm going to bed," I announce and walk towards the door to the boys dorm room. 

  


"But its only nine thirty! Harry why-" but he is cut off my a sharp elbow from Hermione, and for a second the two share a knowing glance. The rest of the people in the room look entertained by the show we are putting on. I should tell them mind their own business. I continue to storm out, opening and closing the door, running up the stairs, and diving onto my bed and letting out a sigh of relief. The room it empty, and it always looks so different in the dark with no one talking or playing truth or dare or other games. This is the way I like it, the shadows playing against the walls like living creatures, demons of the night that only show their dark faces in the presence of one vulnerable student. 

  


Finally I have real peace in which to think. The thoughts of you flow through my tired brain like a waterfall of pins piercing deep into my flesh. Do you want me? I have no way of telling. Making eye contact is hardly the same a showing want for someone. But everything has to start somewhere. I hope that this is the beginning and not the end. I need something to fill up my dreary life. This year has been going so slowly, and I have had not one pleasure. No more letters from Sirius. No more dangerous meetings in the fireplace. My friends have become distant, giving me pity, looking at me as a stray dog in search of a simple meal. Dog. Bad choice of words. I sigh.

  


The only person who hasn't changed towards me is you. Your taunts are the only thing that has stayed the same. You don't see me differently, and this is the kind of thing that I need. I need someone to realize that I'm the same person no matter what happens to the people I love. And I think I've found him. If only you could be more than this, if only you could be the one to comfort me when I need to forget about my past, the one to light up my day with a kiss. Whatever I do, I need to do something to at least attempt to bring you into my life as more than an enemy. I will, I tell myself, but this is nothing different from every day. In my heart I feel that today is actually different from all the other days I've thought the same thoughts, felt the same feelings, and wished the same wish. Now I only hope today is the last. 

  


As I think, the pressing dark and shadows begins to have an affect on my wiped out body. I feel my eyes begin to close, and my breathing become deeper and slower. I allow my body to begin to drift off into sleep. At least in my dreams anything can happen. As I lose my grip of consciousness, the part of my mind still on earth hears the door open, and Ron enters the room looking slightly flushed. I wonder what he was doing down there. He quickly tiptoes over to his bed and closes the curtains. 

  


With that motion I lose my connection with the material world and enter the dream world, where anything is possible and the unexpected is inevitable. 

  


*****

  


The next days classes go by as uneventful as ever. We all had a laugh though in transfiguration when Neville accidently transfigured his sparrow into a drake instead of a garter snake, and it managed to knock over the table and swipe at McGonagall before she transfigured it back into a sparrow which chirped and fluttered over and landed on Neville's shoulder like a pet. 

  


Bless the minor distractions that keep us from falling into the depression of the real world. 

  


It is almost time for me to go to the library, and the deadline for the Potions essay is closing in, so I should probably get some actual work done today. I am gathering my books as usual and grabbing my quill when Hermione and Ron come over and stand right beside me. 

  


"We were hoping that we could join you in the library today," says Hermione nervously. "As you know, the Potions essay is due this week, and I have to put the finishing touches on mine and Ron needs to.." I knew I had to let them come with me. What harm could it cause?

  


"Okay sure, you can come. I don't think you need to ask me if you want to go to the library anyway."

  


"Okay, you're right Harry. Thanks." 

  


We leave the Gryffindor common room and make our way to the library. Once again I find myself opening the door, and I wonder what is in store for me today. As if it is an unspoken rule, I lower my eyes to the floor until I reach my normal spot, where I sit in my chair with Hermione to my right and Ron on her other side. They are distracted by fetching their parchment and quills and opening their books to the appropriate pages. I take this chance to risk a glance at you. 

  


My eyes wander to the window, where the suns' rays shine through as usual, illuminating your chair. But the chair is empty. My heart begins to race and I realize how hot it is in the room. Where could you be? What happened? You have been here every day for the past month or so! Why aren't you here now? Something must have happened to you. I feel a tugging in my heart, and I know I have to go find you. I jump out of my chair and dash to the door, running into some first years who stare at me in shock. They are of no importance to me and I don't bother to apologize. The door closes in a rush and I choose to go left, hoping that this way will lead me to you. 

  


"Oh Draco where have you gone?"

  


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Phew, that was draining. I don't usually write my chapters this long. If I continue this it's going to be a lot more work than I first thought. I did not know where I was going when I started this, but I think I like how it turned out. Please leave a review and tell me what you think. I love reviews, they make you want to write, and they give you inspiration even when you have nothing. I love writing but sometimes I forget that. Reviews help me remember. It means a lot to me. Thanks for reading the story.


	2. Suprises

Thank you so much for your words of praise. The story came out like I wanted it to, and you confirmed that. Not as many reviews as I would have liked, but quality over quantity I always say :P I'm just going to try to keep up what I've been doing. (Including chapter length...)

  


It's been a while since I have written, but these chapters are much longer than the ones in my other story, (which you might want to read... haha) and it takes me longer to write, and much much longer to edit and refine. Bear with me if I don't update as often as you would like, because I would like to be able to write faster too. 

  


As for where the story is going, I have the basic idea thought out. There are some empty spaces that I'm leaving open for now, do if you have any suggestions, feel free to leave a review or send me an email. I'd love the help and support. And remember, I love reviews! Each time I get one it motivates me to write more. And makes me feel better like my work is appreciated. Thanks!

  


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Chapter Two: Surprises

  


Without thinking, I begin to make my way down the halls. I have no destination, not even a place to begin my search. The hallways seem to stretch out before me, each step barely making a dent in the long race I must complete. Where the finish line is, I don't know. I run past some third years I recognize, and they exchange confused glances between themselves. What could be so important to the great Harry Potter? They wonder. I'm sure they'll never guess the reason.

  


I reach the end of the hall, and I slow to a stop and attempt to catch my breath. I can feel my heart beating in my chest, so fast the each beat seems hardly separate from the one before it. It wis a mix of fear, worry, and excursion but it is worth it for you. You are my only priority, the only thing that matters as of now. I need to know, to calm my own twisted heart, that you are all right. 

  


Perhaps I am overreacting. Maybe you finished the books you were so intently reading. Or you could be spending time with your friends or in detention or a number of different things. But I doubt my heart would feel this way if it wasn't important. I need to find out the truth, and I can beat myself later for turning into a wimp over someone who doesn't even care for me. 

  


Well for now I at least need somewhere to begin my search. To my left is the Hufflepuff dorms, and I highly doubt you would be around there. To my right is the infirmary. Of course, that should be the first place I look. It would be great to find you so soon, but I truly hope you aren't stuck in there, suffering from something out of my control. Sickness has always eluded you, but naturally there is a first time for everything. And sickness isn't the only reason you could be there. It chills me to even begin to think about those possibilities. I just need to get there to find out.

  


I turn the corner, quickening my pace from a brisk walk to a slow jog. Luckily the hall is empty, although I'm used to the looks people give me. Whether I'm sprinting down the halls or chatting with friends everyone always stops to look at me, making me the center of their conversations. My fists clench at the very thought, extra attention and pity that I don't need.

  


The doors to various rooms pass by rather quickly, helping me remember that with each step I could be getting closer to you. After what seems like ages I reach the glass doors of the infirmary, and I am about to open it when I realize how I must look. Out of breath, coming into the room simply to see if my biggest rival and worst enemy is there. I need an excuse. 

  


After a few minutes of thought I bring myself to open the door and slip slowly inside. Madame Pomfrey is sitting at the bedside of a sick student, and my heart skips a beat when I look at the face of the one under the covers. Is it you? Relief begins to infect my thoughts like a disease when I realize that this person is not you. It is some teen with dark hair and dark eyes who matters not to me. I don't see how I mistook him for you for even one second.

  


The rest of the room is empty with no trace of you there. Quickly before Pomfrey turns to tend to whatever injury I make up, I go back through the glass doors and into the hallway. I hear a voice calling after me, but I have more important things to deal with. Whoever it is, they can wait.

  


I continue to walk down the same hall, taking each step at a time, hoping that when I turn the corner I will meet you, aloof as usual, staring towards the ceiling or at the walls. You would be safe, and selfishly I would still be able to see you, have some alone time with you today. My breath leaps at each corner, but each time I am disappointed to find no one. I walk past the History or Magic classroom and see Professor Binns cleaning the desk with tools that have become obsolete in the wizarding world. 

  


I turn the next corner, empty. This is the dark part of the castle: the Slytherin dungeons. I try to walk past this area as quickly as I can, but a small sound stops me. The doors to Snape's quarters (God forbid I even know which ones are his) are made of a thick wood that muffles the sound coming from within, but I do hear something weaving its way through the wood. The noise is soft, high pitched, like the mew of a small kitten. Curious, I walk forward until I am merely inches from the door. The sound registers in my mind. Someone inside is crying.

  


My eyes widen abruptly. I distinguish the voice of Snape trying to comfort the other, of course Snape isn't crying, he cant be capable of emotion, but the crying only becomes louder. Upon further inspection I realize that I have found what I have been searching for. It is you, in Snape's dungeon, sobbing. _Sobbing. _This is not like you. Never have I witnessed any emotions clearly on your face other than excitement and victory. No sadness marring your perfection. 

  


I imagine you with tears streaking down your cheeks, running over the perfect lips. Your stormy eyes opening and pain coursing through the air beyond them, enough to make me cry just by looking. But you are not alone. I wrap my arms around your shaking form and you cuddle into the touch, burying your head in my chest. I stroke your head, and whisper words of healing in your smoothly shaped ears. 

  


As soon as the sobbing stops, you look deep into my eyes, and say your thanks to me for my help. I lean in and kiss away your tears, willing the sorrow to go away. Whatever is hurting you can be banished, for nothing dark is worthy of your time. You force a smile, and plant a beautiful kiss on my lips, lingering...

  


I am suddenly jolted back into reality. Your sobbing turns into silent weeping, and I hear you struggle to speak. Your voice is shaky and I can hear the turmoil winding its way through your speech. But your words are clear and I inch even closer to the door so I don't miss a thing that leaves your lips.

  


"But I, I- it's not fair! He has no right to, to force this on me." A million thoughts whirl through my brain, but I push them aside for further analysis later. 

  


"I am my own person. Why the hell does he have the right to, the right to..." His momentary attempt at anger is thwarted by the sobs returning to his body. I can imagine how he looks, vulnerable, his body racked with the tremors of crying, gasping for breath.

  


"Shhh," says the voice of Snape, softly but forcefully. 

  


"I wont stop! This isn't the way it should be. You need to help me stop him, stop them all! You're the only one who understands..." I would understand. "You are the only one who can fix this."

  


"I know, I know." snaps Snape. "We'll get to it eventually, but you should be strong. Your father was strong." How can Snape be so cold to the suffering beauty inside his room? I didn't know anyone could be so cruel. 

  


"Don't mention my fucking father! This isn't about him!"

  


"Oh but it is, and you know that perfectly well. And watch your mouth, Malfoy. When we get a chance to talk to him maybe we can help sort this out."

  


"That's not good enough! You aren't helping in the slightest. I'm leaving." 

  


The sound of a chair violently swinging back, hitting some sort of object causing it to fall onto the floor and shatter into a million pieces a sound that crashes through the sound resistant doors. This is the last thing I hear before bolting away to a safe distance, one that won't make me seem so suspicious, if your really are leaving. 

  


The door opens and slams viciously behind you, causing the door frame to creak in protest. The aura around you is unbearably strong, displaying your anger to anyone who comes near you. I quicken my pace so I am out of site. The last thing I need is for you to take your anger out on me. If that were to happen I don't know what I'd do. I wouldn't be able to stand having you mad at me, distancing me from you, forcing me to take a step back in my attempts to get close to you. 

  


You must be moving faster than I first thought because before I turn the next corner to make my way to the Gryffindor common room, I hear your voice ring out down the hallway, speaking a word that I would never have expected you to say. 

  


"Harry...?"

  


I turned for a split second to see a teary eyed Draco looking at me with a passion I had never seen before. It scared me, and I knew of nothing else but to run.

  


*****

  


"Harry where did you go? Ron and I were worried sick! You just got up and left. Is everything all right?"

  


I am bombarded with these questions as soon as I open the door to the library. Overwhelmed, I bite back the disparaging remarks that I had prepared for them. They were only trying to be kind, but I wonder if they've ever heard the saying 'too much of a good thing.' This definitely proves that statement true.

  


"I'm fine, really. I just had a little headache and I went down to the infirmary. Nothing big."

  


"It sure took you a while if that's all you did." Ron is always the one to see straight through my lies. Hermione gave him "the look," telling him to shut up and leave me alone. I remind myself to thank her for that later. 

  


I started a small useless conversation, hoping that my friends would look at me they way they used to, before I became interested in you. Ron was overly enthusiastic during our small talk, but I can only interpret that as a good sign. We make our way to dinner, looking like we always have, but on the inside my heart twists. There is never a minute that I don't think about what you said, what I heard. I wish I knew more, so I can put the pieces together and uncover what is hurting you. But most of all I wish I could be the one comforting you. 

  


Dinner comes and goes, though the rich food that keeps appearing on the plates tastes dull on my tongue. I laugh will Ron and Hermione like old times, forgetting my pain, giving me something to think of other than you. After a dessert of chocolate cake, we leave the table feeling a little sick to the stomach.

  


We are passing through the Great Hall, not quite paying attention to where we are going when I find myself crashing into a person who seemed to come out of nowhere. About to apologize, I stand up straight and brush away the wrinkles in my clothes. Then, I am pulled by the collar of my robes away from my friends into a dimly lit corner of the Hall. 

  


It is only then that I realize who I walked into. 

  


Your grey eyes stare down at me with the normal malice, but the signature Malfoy smirk is missing from your face. Your hand is still grasped around my collar, fingertips inadvertently brushing the back of my neck. The simple skin to skin contact causes me to shiver as warmth pulses through my body. I open my mouth to speak, remembering that you deserve an apology.

  


"Mayfoy, I-" I start, strong and unwavering, but I am cut off before I can finish.

  


"Save it. Potter, we need to talk. Meet me in the unused classroom on the fourth floor, second to your right facing the stairwell. At midnight tonight."

  


I stand, dumbfounded, as you release my neck and stomp off. I watch you leave, robes billowing out behind you, head held high. 

  


And as you disappear, all I am able to do is say, in a whisper,

  


"Sorry..."

  


*****

  


Walking back to the dorms, I am confused, and the idea of what is happening later tonight hasn't quite registered in my head. My heart rate is still above normal, and I laugh nervously at everything that my friends say. As soon as we close the door to the dorms behind us however, the realization dawns on me. 

  


You asked to see me. Draco Malfoy wants to see me, wants to be with me. It is as I have always wanted. I look at the clock. Seven thirty, only four and a half more hours. I need to occupy myself. I can't make up some complex fantasy, because nothing like that is going to happen. Nothing romantic, probably nothing even friendly. But no matter what I tell myself, my mind tingles with anticipation. I need to calm myself down!

  


Schoolwork, that isn't interesting. I take my potions essay, with the ever-nearing deadline, and begin to work.

  


_Using Moonstones in More Complex Potions_

  


_Moonstones are rather common in the field of potion-making. It varies in its uses, from simple potions, akin to the Polyjuice potion, to increasingly difficult ones including the Wolfsbane Potion. It has special qualities that appear when added to a steaming mixture. It causes the temperature to drop and the color of the solution would change into a dimmer shade of color if used correctly. It is common and easily obtained, found in places...._

  


What a surprise, I can't concentrate. After beginning to write, go to my book of potions and special ingredients to find more information. I take notes, but with each passing of quill on parchment my eyelids begin to fall, and my head gets light. I decide to take a quick rest, setting my head lightly on the desk and covering my eyes with an arm. 

  


Sleep comes, however unwanted, and when I wake up the first thought that pops into my head it, what time is it? The common room is dark, and everyone else must be in bed, for it is empty except for me. The crescent moon's white light streaks through the window and casts light on the shadow of the wall. I follow its line until it reaches the clock. It's eleven-thirty. Good timing. When I think that there are only thirty minutes separating you from me, I begin to regain my prior excitement. I decide to leave early. No reason to be on time. 

  


I grab my invisibility cloak and wrap it around me. The world always seems to fade when it is covering me, giving me a sense of distance from physical existence. Silently I open the door, and go as quick as my legs carry me without making a sound, towards the stairs. 

  


The shadows come to life in the castle at night, and the moonlight seems to accentuate the darkness instead of dispelling it. It feels so unreal, so imagined, as if I am in a dream. 

  


I take the stairs two at a time, hoping they don't move too quickly and throw me off. They seem dormant, like everything else, and I reach the fourth floor with no disasters. It takes forever for me to walk down the halls, for I have to inspect everything, look at it in the darkness. The time passes quickly and before I know it I reach the abandoned classroom. Rumor has it that unseen creatures hide in the shadows, but obviously you don't believe it, do I won't either. 

  


I turn the doorknob, and I figure it has to be about midnight. Peering inside I see you, sitting under the window, waiting. Waiting for me. The moonlight leaves a streak across your chest, seeming to split you in half. There is something mysteriously sexy about it. With a spring in my step, I walk and let my eyes fall into your waiting gaze. 

  


You give your equivalent of a smile, before pointing to an empty chair across from him. I sit, and my eyes scan the room momentarily before your voice breaks the darkness.

  


"Potter, there's something I need to tell you."

  


___________________________

  


Well, there it is. Hope you're intrigued. Check back for another update soon, but don't expect too much :P 

  


I'm in the process of doing MAJOR editing, and have been doing so for the past few days. I will have the enhanced chapters of my other stories up in a few days if you want to check them out. I'd really appreciate it. And don't forget to review!!


	3. Chances

First of all, I want to thank you all for the reviews you gave me:) It makes me want to keep writing. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story because I've put a lot of work into it. I love how you noticed the way I try to convey the story, because that was basically what I was trying to do. Thanks again!

  


I wrote the beginning of this chapter back in November, with all intention of finishing it then, but life called and so I sort of put it on hold. Then Return of the King came out, and for a month I totally forgot about it. But it seems I'm back now, and I have all intention of finishing it. It's hard going back to writing first person... tell me how I did!

  


Thanks for sticking with me, and I hope this makes up for the wait.

  


OH! And another thing, I don't have a beta for any of my stories, and I think I could use one especially for this one. If anyone who is experienced with... grammar at least wants to take on the challenge, please email me! I would greatly appreciate it!

  


And of course, enjoy and don't forget to review!

  
  
  
  


Chapter Three: Chances

  


At your words everything stops except for my mind which whirls with questions, thoughts, and hopes. What do you want to tell me? I won't get my hopes up; I don't want to be disappointed. I nod my head to tell you to continue, and I keep my fingers crossed that it's something good, something that I will like to hear. Your eyes rest intently on mine and you begin to speak with all seriousness. 

  


"It's kind of hard not to notice that you seem to be following me around. I see you in the library every day, and yesterday I caught you staring at me. The look in your eyes was definitely intense, even for you, Potter. What's going on? You followed me today too, didn't you." Your voice begins to speed up.

  


"You were there outside Snape's quarters. For how long, I don't know. And when I saw you, you ran. Let me ask you what I wanted to ask you then. What do you know? What have you heard? Anything of my father?" Your eyes darkened and you glared at the wall, malice and hate poorly masked and clearly visible on your face.

  


"Well? Tell me!" 

  


I don't know what to say. My non-existent hopes are crushed, that you might want something from me, something that I can actually give. I take deep breaths and try to formulate my response into coherent words. The dark room seems to be having an effect on me for I can only think about the way the shadows dance across your face, and the way your glistening eyes stand out against the absence of light. 

  


"Dr-Malfoy, I swear I don't know anything," I say submissively. "And if I find something out I'll make sure to tell you, I..."

  


"Then why do you follow me around?" The tension between us rises. It's not what I want. I need to find a way to loosen everything up so we can actually co-exist without arguing over every single thing with each other.

  


"Not that I mind getting the precious attentions of Dumbledore's beloved Golden Boy," you spit sarcastically. You must be spending too much time with Snape, or maybe this is how you have always been, and my biased mind refuses to see this side of you as of late.

  


"Draco, hold on. I guess I've just become, interested in you." Nice one, Harry. Why don't I just bow to you, grab your hand, and ask you to take me now. "I mean I'm interested in what you're doing. You've been reading a lot more lately," I seem to find my voice. "What are you up to?"

  


"Like that's any of your business. Maybe I'm just working on, say, my potions essay." Your eyes glint. 

  


"All right, sorry I guess." You make me sound like a first year talking to an angry teacher. What is wrong with me? The shadows move around the room almost like living things. I think I shiver.

  


From here the silence wraps around me like a noose, separating you from me, stopping me from whatever it is I want to do. I open my mouth to speak but I can't find any words to say. You've captivated me. Sitting, you bounce your knee, making the dust from the floor slither through the air, adding to the darkness.

  


I imagine a better time when you like me, when we like each other. We could be in here, doing something more... productive. I look at you, and know I need to make some kind of move to tell you how I feel, so I won't hate myself later. I always let opportunities go. I study the features of your face, trying to add to the mental picture I carry with me everywhere. My eyes travel from your chin to your lips up to your nose and rests on your eyes. 

  


Courage and want overtakes fear and I take a single bold step towards you. My eyes now rest on your lips, maybe because I can't bear to look in your eyes for fear of rejection, and maybe because they could be my target. Like I do so many times in my dreams, I take another step forward, awaiting eagerly what is supposed to come next.

  


"Harry, what are you-"

  


But a crash followed by shouts interrupts you, as well as my failed efforts to approach you. The sounds of repeated bangs and crashes overwhelms the silence. I hear a snarl coming from a voice that sounds like Snape's, and then a terrifying moan accompanied by a screech. It sounds like some monster inside the castle, near the very room where we are.

  


"Come on, let's go!" I shout as I close the remaining distance between us and grab your hand, forgetting momentarily who you are until the moment when our skin connects. If I hadn't been so frightened and anxious my knees would have buckled at the contact. Your skin is so soft, so smooth, so heavenly that no one but you could possibly posses it. 

  


My mind swims with thoughts about you but I push them back and try to focus. I pull you to the door, open it, and run towards the sounds of the ongoing battle.

  


Dark hallways accompany my dark thoughts as the two of us dash through the night. As we move forward the sounds get louder and louder and I begin to hear more action. The voices or more Professors including McGonagall jump out as if the curses they are saying are aimed at me. And then there are ths sounds of the beast, whatever it is. Thinking back to the distant Care of Magical Creatures classes. I can't think of anything to classify this creature, especially without seeing it. The noise it amazing, a racket of roars and shrieks followed by large crashes where its feet must be hitting the ground and breaking tables or something. Perplexed, I drop the thought, and prepare myself for what we might see. 

But the whole time, I remain holding your hand. That is the kind of thing I need in a time like this. Well, any time would be nice. You don't pull away, even though it must look strange for us to be dashing through the halls holding hands. I know I don't care. I hope this isn't the only time. The flesh is warm, and I can feel the blood coursing through your veins. It is an uplifting feeling. This being is alive, just the same as I am, but in many ways, so different. 

I look to your eyes, but you pay no attention. You seem to be deep in thought, tuning all of the noises and feelings around you. You don't seem the slightest bit worried, and there is no hint of fear in your eyes. I envy you for this, for either your bravery or your ability to conceal emotions. I can't figure out which.

With every step the sounds get louder, and my heart rises, fear simmering in my blood. You suddenly pull your hand away as if it was on fire. It hurts, but I won't let you know it. I was so close to spilling my feeling to you, but now I'm retreating, pulling my head back into my shell. I secretly follow your hand with my eyes, hoping there is a good reason that it parted from mine. The warmth of it still lingers, a ghost touch occasionally brushing my hand, light as a feather.

My hand trails back to my pocket and my fingers land upon the wand I hastily shoved there as I hurried to get to the meeting with you. I pull it out, and run my fingers across the wood, forgetting momentarily the troubles of the world. It seems strange at times that so much power can come from such a small piece or organic material.

Finally, after what seems like hours of tension and worry about what was to come, we reach the stairs. From where we stand we should see a birds eye view of some gruesome battle, shouldn't we? Confused, I take a closer look. On the third floor, all I see is Mrs. Norris scurrying across the ground, ruby eyes glinting as if she is on the trail of a sneaky student out of bed. How can this be? We should be seeing teachers fighting for their lives, a horrible beast growling and crashing across the castle. 

It just seemed to... vanish. 

The sounds we heard earlier, they couldn't have been my imagination; they were just too read. I look to you for answers, as it seems I always do. But all I can do is simply look, because the horror on your face stops whatever thought was flowing through my mind. Your angelic face is twisted in pain, eyes closed, beads of sweat appearing on your slender neck. Your lips are moving in some unintelligible speech, and your grip on your wand is strong enough to break it in half. What the hell is happening?

And then I hear it, a high pitched ringing that surrounds my entire mind. It starts in my temples, and spreads out throughout my entire body, consuming me as a hungry fire would dry timber. Searing pain follows, so painful that I think I drop to my knees, although in my state I'm not quite sure if I am. My scar throbs, and so does my whole head. The world begins to spin, and I see a blurred image of you in front of my eyes for seconds before it too blurs beyond recognition. 

The colors heighten, become more vivid so that they seem to be taking over everything. A light filters through the darkness, dispelling the shadows, and finds its way, as the sound did, to penetrate my mind and overcome my senses. Can't.. I try to move my arms, but I can't even tell if I am or not, for my whole body is numb. The light cascades through me in waves, accentuated by the ever present ringing. 

Fading.

What's happening? I can't, I wont.. Everything's so.. Wrong, why this, why now? Why me? Dra..co.. please, make it stop I can't control anything, its all gone, vanishing into the light... Draco help me...

*****

_Melting. The world is melting around me, that's the only way I can put it. It's all, melting into light, but light and dark at the same time. Not together, separate, but still the same. The air is thick, think with light and dark, the union and contrast at the same time. _

_I try to move, but it feels as if I am trying to swim through fog. Where am I? I can feel power coursing through me, or perhaps rebounding off me and simmering through the air in a current of electric ice. The world is brightly colored and grey scale all at the same time, and I am swimming, walking, sitting, and falling, never stopping._

_My heart aches, and a loneliness sinks into me. Gloom settles, both in the air and my heart. I am trapped, for I can't move. I open my mouth to speak, but premature words evaporate into nothing before they can be spoken. _

_My mind races while the rest of me moves in slow motion. Whirls of thoughts combining with an array of feelings rock my brain. I want something, but I don't quite know what it means. Something light, but also dark. Why does this seem so familiar? Something soft and yet hard, smooth and at the same time, rough. The world seems cruel, because the only thing I want seems always out of my grasp. A ray of light cut off by rain clouds._

_I flail my legs trying to gain momentum enough to move through the sticky air. I manage to slowly inch forward, but to what point? And why? And then it dawns on me. For a half a second, everything clears and I am faced with a picture so perfect that no words can accurately describe it. _

_Yellow. Yellow and grey separated by the palest of tones. Eyes with long lashes blinking open. Grey eyes mottled with flecks blues, hiding both dark and light. A shape, as if carved out of marble glints in the dark/light. And I know who it is I want, pure and true. I want him. I want this creature to be mine, I want him so I can be his. Together we could overcome anything, and have the sweetest of love. Somehow, someway I know I can have it. The air breathes him, and even in our distance we're closer. Draco, how could I ever think I was merely fascinated by you? _

_I want.. I want everything. I want fascination, but at the same time I want everything to be clear and laid out in front of me. I want you; every part, every sliver of your body and soul attacks me. But somehow I know that this is a mere far off dream, as I always thought. Draco, you're the only one that can help me._

_*****_

Pain swells in my head. It feels like I can feel nothing but this pain, but I can't seem to remember what it's from. Actually, I can't seem to remember much of anything. 

I seem almost disconnected, and my senses aren't quite working. My eyes are shut, and I can't risk opening them and seeing where the heck I am. I feel like I'm in a bed, a very soft bed surrounded by pillows; but it's still hardwhich doesn't make sense.Nothing seems to make sense anymore. 

But now I can hear something, something distant but still definitely there, somewhere. Whispers of voices far away. Straining my ears I try to catch some of what is being said.

"...He was just, lying there. Not moving, hands covering his face. We tried to wake him up, but he just, wouldn't. And Draco was there, suffering from some sort of pain, screaming to 'get Potter out of here before something terrible happens.' So naturally we did, but nothing actually happened, and from as far as we can see nothing did happen at all. Harry's condition is a complete mystery..."

That voice sounded mildly familiar. McGonagall maybe. Yeah, I think that's right. 

"Oh, here he is now!" Says another, higher voice_, _before a loud crash cuts off my hearing. The room seems to shake, but as far as I know all that happened was that someone opening the door. I hear a kind of panting, and immediately fear rises inside, because I am totally helpless. Anyone, the Dark Lord, Snape... could just get at me.__

But then I hear soft, soothing words, a caress of the voice.And the voice is so familiar. So soft, so caring, so beautiful.

"Potter, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get you into this.."

Whatever "this" is I don't know, but that voice. It's you, Draco. You're apologizing to me? 

"...And whatever I do, I will make sure that you aren't part of it.." What's he saying? Nothing is making sense to me at all. The words are just sitting there, swirling around my head. 

With that, all of a sudden, I have the deepest urge. Never have a felt something like this. All I want to do is see you. I want to see you standing there, apologizing to me and speaking to me like you care. Even if this is some sort of dream, I want it to feel real; I don't want these intangible hallucinations. 

With much effort, I manage to lift eyelids heavy as bricks. 

And there, shrouded in a holy light, is my savior. You are all silver and gold, pure, heavenly, and you're there for me. I have gone forward at least a step. I have a chance after all, and this is all I need to get through whatever this is. Draco, please don't leave. Draco..

"Draco." My voice is weak, too weak, but I am able to use all my energy to speak that single word that holds so much meaning. 

And before I slip away, I see you look at me, a phantom tear marring your face.

__________________________________

Very hard to stay in first person here. I kept wanting to have a scene from someone else's point of view, but I can't. Oh well, I hope it made sense. And I am once again enjoying writing this, so *hopefully* the updates will be faster, but I can't promise anything. I have to say that confused!Harry and hallucinating!Harry is so much fin to write.

Please review, I want to see how you think I did. And, I promise it'll make me want to write more!__

And again, I need a beta. Just thought I should remind you:P__


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